Poet of War
by Kinkynafnaf
Summary: Lenier is an Exodite Eldar, her planet has been wiped clean of their existence and she is aboard an Imperial ship with no idea as to why.
1. Captured

I do not own Warhammer or any of the world's it has within it. This story was made for fun

Warhammer Fan fiction – The Poet of War Rated M for Mature

Part 1 - Captured

Lenier sat on the maiden world and looked up at the purple-blue sky chewing a bit of wheat. Life was simple here and it made sense, there were no worries or attacks upon them and they made no quarrels with anyone. Visitors came through the webway to speak of the lives outside of the planet, so they were still in tune with the universe, but they did not stay long. Lenier got bored watching the sky and skipped away to find their herds of dragons. She was lithe, and every movement was timed perfectly to get the most out of each leap and was soon at the gate of her parent's house. Neither were home so she snuck into the field of dragons that grazed peacefully. Her favourite padded up to see her and purred as she stroked its head, "would you like to go for a flight my dear?" Lenier asked and the dragon responded with a louder purr. Lenier climbed on and with a flap of its almighty wings the dragon ascended into the sky.

The dragon flew steadily as the upper winds tugged in Lenier's long hair. She enjoyed their flights together; they gave her time to think. She thought of her family; her mother and father, and then thought of the Paths she had taken. She had taken the Bonesinger Path first and held that mark upon her face as testament to it. She'd then taken the Ranger Path, so she might channel her anger in a more effective way and had been in only one battle. She was now on the Path of the Poet. It was peaceful and calm and allowed for her better, happier feelings to be channelled. She held her yellow waystone in her hand, embracing its warmth and looking at its glimmering exterior. Lenier wanted to stay this way forever.

Suddenly the dragon jolted, it was tense, and she knew if the dragon dived she would fall to her death. She stayed calm and stroked its neck; "Ssh, calm my dear, there's nothing to fear, I would have felt their psyches by now". Then she felt it, a shockwave of something coming through the webway. It could've been the Imperial Guard; they had learnt to engineer vehicles that could go through it with harming those inside them. Or worse, it could be the Dark Eldar. Her people had survived The Fall because they'd gone to the maiden worlds, but they had survived by hiding deep in the depths of the warp. They were slaves to She Who Thirsts, and enjoyed every horrible ounce of pain they could get from their prey. She hoped it was the Imperial Guard, as they were often open to peace. The dragon jolted again and she could feel it tensing for a dive, "no my dear, you mustn't dive, we must stay up here and only join the fray if need-" upon hearing the word dive the dragon plummeted with Lenier holding on for her life to a slick metallic spine. "PULL UP! PULL UP OR WE'LL DIE!" She screamed, but her words were lost to the roar of the wind speeding by. There was only one way to escape a splattered death, and she took it. Dragons dive in a U shape, and at the lowest point she would jump off and join her comrades in whatever escapade had come to her home.

She leapt off and landed with a roll. She looked to the webway portal and saw a line of green grey uniforms walking across the horizon. With her fears of the Dark Eldar elevated she walked up to see them. There was no one else walking up to greet them though. Where were they? Then she saw a body lying in a field, it was a child and she changed direction to meet him. Lenier called out as she walked, "Hey! Have you any idea as to what is happening?" but the child remained silent. As she got closer she saw he was facing down on the grass. She pulled him to face up and found he was without any life in his eyes. His waystone was grey and the child was dead. Lenier ran back to her home. She had not trained as a soldier so that her talents as one would be wasted. Lenier slammed the door of her house open and grabbed her shuriken pistol and laser rifle. She clambered up to the roof of her dead home and settled into a space she could snipe from.

The shot lined up to the tallest figure walking in the line, and was fired without a moment's hesitation or doubt. He fell and the Imperial Guard stopped their assault. Lenier reloaded and lined up her shot to her next victim. It was the last person of the line to the left. He was but a subordinate but it would still add to the disarray. He fell and she fired her next shot at the last man of the line on the right and missed. It was the first time this had happened. She lined up again, fired and he fell. The line started to move once more though, and they had worked out where she was. Lenier left the roof of her home and grabbed her Ranger uniform. These clothes had the ability to make her disappear, and were as light as a feather. With her pistol, rifle and long knives placed about her she left her home. She was not Lenier the Poet anymore; she was Lenier the Ranger, silent and deadly. She disappeared from her enemies sights and walked toward them.

She removed her pistol from its holster and began to run. Lenier picked out a queue of victims to be killed in a certain order. She started to pick them off and the Imperial Guard stopped once more, looking for their invisible adversary. She zigzagged as she ran; so as to make it look like there were more of her than there really was. They didn't see her until she threw her cloak away, leaping into the air with her blades outstretched. She sliced tendons, as she did not want to kill them just yet; she wanted answers as to the genocide of her people. They soon surrounded her though and then with one shot from a science officer she was stunned and harmless. All was black.

Lenier woke in a room of grey, behind glass. She immediately stood and rammed the glass, only to find it was diamond filament. She rubbed her shoulder and tried to think of where she was. It was grey and mechanical and did not have species of her intelligence nearby. She was a captive aboard an Imperial Guard ship. Lenier knew they did not like the company of mutants and aliens, but that was just the ignorance of man. They could not appreciate the gifts some have, so they call them mutants or aliens. Lenier heard footsteps coming, and in a split second had a plan. She climbed back into her bed and remained still. Before long the footsteps walked up to her and she was inspected. She heard the scribble of pen on paper, and the footsteps turned to walk away. As they were doing so she snuck from the bed, grabbed the white coated human and removed his gun from his holster, all in one fluid movement. "Where am I?" She snarled into his ear.

"You are aboard the Imperial Ship Victorious." He stuttered.

"How arrogant, you weren't victorious in genocide because I am still alive. What happened to my people?" Lenier pushed the gun into his neck.

"We tried a new weapon, a Psychosomatic Blast Wave. It fried the brain stems of the Eldar."

"Why did you do it? We're no threat; we're Exodites for Isha's sake!"

"You had a planet we needed and so we took it. You were perfect subjects to test the new weapon on."

"Why did I survive?"

"That's what I was going to ask you."

"So why are you keeping me here?"

"For experiments, the Imperial Guard would not waste a chance to learn you secrets and techniques."

"This is my last question, where is the webway gate in this ship?"

"We don't have one-"

"Don't you lie to me; I could kill you with this gun or with my own hands or both, so if you lie, you will get the option as to which one you want to die by."

"It's down the hall and on the left."

"Good, now you're coming with me." Lenier began to march him down the corridor with the gun at his back and strode toward the webway. "You do know they'll just replace me, hostages don't work in the Imperial Guard; we are many so there is no individuality. Red alert, a prisoner has escaped!" He cried. Sirens screeched as the corridor turned red. Lenier shoved him away and ran for the webway. "Don't kill her!" she heard him cry as soldiers chased after her. She shot at the soldiers' feet to slow them down. Her speed was amazing and she soon lost them. Before her stood the webway gate, behind her sounded a stun shot and everything was black again.

Lenier woke in the bed and room of grey and saw a host of white coated humans staring in at her. She sat up and stared back, slowly leaving the bed to walk calmly to the window. She hadn't had much contact with humans, but she didn't regret that either. They were primitive, aggressive and lacked potential. She put her hands upon the glass and sat cross legged, enjoying a staring contest and test of wills with these creatures. One walked away and she heard him over the intercom, "We have some questions for you. You will answer and in return we will give an answer to you. Do you comply?" Lenier nodded and began to pace. "First question, do you have any reasoning behind you sense of style?" Lenier looked at herself, she was wearing a shirt that looked like a waist coat and showed a lot of her chest, with a pair of trousers that accentuated her long legs but flowed so as to keep them free. Lenier just shrugged, "It looks nice. I'm a poet; I like to keep my colours in flow with whatever I'm writing."

"We've seen footage of you fighting our troops, how can a poet be a soldier?"

"I am no soldier; I am Ranger of the Exodites. It is a Path I chose to channel my anger, but it was the simplest as I am not a particularly angry person."

"That's all we need for today, we'll see you tomorrow or later to talk some more. Is there any information you would like to know?"

"What has my planet become since your genocide?"

"A breeding planet from the Imperial Empire" deep inside Lenier fumed, her home was now a planet of procreation for a species as intelligent as her left toe. Her calm exterior did not change though,"May I have some form of stimulation for my psyche? As I get bored very easily"

"We will give you a gym to keep you in shape. Good bye." And with that the white coats walked away and a small door opened and out rolled some dumbbells and from the ceiling dropped a punch bag.

Lenier sat on her bed. She knew she was being watched, but didn't want to do anything to raise suspicion. Then a thought came to her, she would show them just how powerful she was. She lifted a dumbbell with her thoughts alone and pulled it close so she could look at it. It was cold and rough against her smooth hands. She placed it on the floor and stared at it. Slowly, it came apart and began to float around her. She looked at every piece taking in its shape and what it did. It then put itself back together and she inspected the punch bag. It was the Imperialistic mundane grey and looked heavy. Lenier looked at it with intrigue, and figured that she'd have to hit it to make something happen. She took up a fighting stance and jumped back and forth of her tiptoes. Her back leg swung out and smacked the punch bag, making it fly across her cell. She looked over her shoulder to the camera in the corner, "The power of the Eldar Exodites is second to none; we have honed our abilities to the point of perfection. That is my proof." Lenier pointed to the punch bag, smiling.


	2. Neighbour

Warhammer Fan fiction – The Poet of War Rated M for Mature

Part 2 – Neighbour

The giant grey ship floated through space with slow admiration of all the stars that surrounded them. It was a grey that looked worn and seen too many battles and so was now a chipped science ship instead of an Imperial war ship. The Victorious pulsed with electrical energy going through its wiry veins. Toward the back of its oval shape sat the brig, and within its dull grey brig stood a young female Eldar proclaiming her strength. This proclamation did not go unheeded, as an Imperial security guard watched her, eye to eye through the camera. He felt a shiver trickle along his spine. As any Imperial human, he'd been raised to believe mutants and aliens were sick freaks of nature to be exterminated, but for the first time in his career of being a security guard, he was scared. He'd just seen this small woman kick a punch bag, secured by a chain, half way across the room. She'd taken apart a dumbbell with her mind and just declared her power. He alerted the scientists immediately but never again looked at the screen filming her cell.

Lenier lay back on her bed looking at the dull ceiling. 'How boring and fetid...' she thought 'I've no paper or people to do anything with... I don't even have a brush to smooth my hair with.' The movement of white in her peripheral vision cut her line of thought and she sat up, "What is it?" The white coats stared back in wonder and the man's intercom voice gargled overhead, "How did you kick the punch bag all the way over there?"

"Give me another and I'll show you." At the request another bag dropped from the ceiling and she took up her fighting stance. She felt her inner strength, felt the power of her psyche in sync with her body and threw her foot forward with all the strength of her body and mind. The bag did the same thing as its predecessor and collapsed on the ground with a satisfying thump. The white coats applauded and the intercom burbled another question "How do you do that?"

"With the power of my psyche and body in sync my combined strength is greater than any humans... why? I have done wrong by doing so?"

"Not at all, we just need to assess your strength and capabilities and then see if we can have a one to one scientist deal with you."

"I see. Is there anyone else here in the cells like me? I miss conversation and company." Lenier looked at them for an answer as they turned away from her to discuss what the answer should be. They turned back and nodded at the missing man controlling the inner voice in the cell, "we do, but we don't think you'd enjoy his company."

"Why? Is he an Ork?" Lenier stood and looked at the white coats. They seemed to shiver in terror at even the mention of his existence. "No, no," came the voice, "He won't tell us what he is, he claims it to be an honour reserved for those about to die." Lenier stiffened, she only knew of one species that was so sick as to say that, "Show me him and I will tell you what he is." The white coats nodded and a loud buzzing noise alerted her that the opaque wall to her left could move to show another cell.

It came stalking down into the cell directly next to hers. It was dark but it was a biped; someone of the Chaos perhaps? It was no beast but it was too lithe to be an Ork. Then the shadow noticed her at the end of its voyage and began running to her. Its gait was nimble and sleek, much like her own people, but there was a creeping evil about it. It wasn't running to greet her; it was running to kill her. As his shape got closer she could see it was a man, a man with black hair in dark clothes. Suddenly the white coats felt it good to remove the diamond filament glass between the two cells, so there was nothing to protect her from it. She settled into her stance. He was fast; he'd moved 6 10 metre cells in under a minute and was getting faster. Lenier had to think quickly about her resources. A pair of dumbbells and a pair of broken punch bags, her odds didn't look good. He was only a cell away now and all she saw was his hateful midnight blue eyes.

He landed on top of her, pinning her pelvis to the floor. He gripped her hands and grinned, showing his pointed teeth. He opened his mouth and leaned in to bite her neck. Lenier turned her head and focused on the dumbbell. She threw at his head with her telekinesis. He rolled over to the front window where the white coats watched.

They both stood up and he circled her, "You're an interesting wench if ever I met one. Telekinesis, that's a dirty trick. My people lost that ability in The Fall." Lenier watched him warily, focused only on those dark malicious eyes, "You like my eyes, or do you like my scar? I am part of The Kabal of The Slashed Eye. This," he stroked his scar, "Is my loving testament to it."

"Your people know nothing of love. I'm surprised you even procreate." Lenier spat back at him, "You are a mess of a species that revel in all that is dark and disgusting." The dark stranger came in close and held her in a choke hold, "You flatter me too much my dear; tell me, what is your name?"

"My name is reserved for those with my respect."

"Then you shan't learn my name until you have mine. Your people are cowards. Terrified of a life without limits and so you ran away. I can smell open air on you, you're an Exodite. That'll be your name from me until I know the real one."

"Then I shall only call you Scum, even after I learn your real name." Lenier felt their energies in sync, finding his weak points and showing them to her. "I will kill you, Scum, if you don't let go."

"How so?" he tightened his grip on her, but then changed his hold to a simple neck-in-hand strangle. He pushed her against the back wall. The change in position threw off the link she'd had and now she'd have to start all over. "Since my name is now Scum, that is what you'll be screaming when I rape you." Lenier struggled in his grip as he changed his hold again to pin her against the wall by her hands with her facing him, "I want to see your face when I do it." He grinned with evil etched on his enamelled teeth. Lenier squirmed again, trying to break free but to no avail. Her mind groped for the dumbbell and found the punch bag. She lifted and threw it against her opponent. He skidded into the next cell and the diamond glass slid down between them. "You dirty whore!" He screamed, "That was a dirty trick! Next time! Next time you won't have a chance to play your nasty tricks!" He slammed his fist on the glass and bared his teeth, screaming. The white coats didn't bring the opaque wall back. She watched him as he paced, growling, in front of her.

The intercom sounded overhead, "What is he then?" Lenier looked at the group with their little clipboards and curious eyes, "Why should I give you an answer when you had no intention of intervening when he was going to rape me?"

"We did, we brought the glass down between you. So what is he?"

"He is one of the Dark Eldar. The sicker side of my species" Lenier looked away from him. His only disfigurement was the scar, but he had ruined his black hair with smeared blood on the tips. "How did the Dark Eldar come about?"

"It happened during The Fall when they pledged their allegiance to She Who Thirsts."

"Who is, She Who Thirsts?" Lenier shuddered at the thought of her and pushed her away from her thoughts, "I dare not speak her name. We of the Eldar do not think or speak of her much, or she will consume us." Then a thud came from the other side of the glass. He was peering in at her, smiling that horrifying smile that promised a slow death to all who looked upon it, "You don't like her name? Why? It's such a pretty name! Shall I say it for you?" Lenier shook her head and covered her ears. The white coats nodded. The stranger shrugged and smiled, "You give a crowd what they want, ok; her name is Slaanesh! Slaanesh! Slaanesh! SLAANESH! I said it, so Exodite; can you feel her squirming in your mind? Giver her what she wants! Giver her your soul!" He cackled maniacally and gleefully skipped about his cell, "Where's your peaceful Maiden world now, Exodite?"

Lenier stood and felt her waystone pulsing on her chest. It was warm with anger, "Come do her will then, or has she not lent you enough strength to break the glass that imprisons you?" The waystone floated from her chest and she felt the light of her soul channel into it. It exploded from the stone and blinded the insane Dark Eldar. He scrambled under his bed cover, "What are you Exodite? No soul is that pure." He shuddered as he whispered

"Idiot Scum!" she cried, feeling all that she was being poured into the stone, "I follow the Path of both the Poet and the Bonesinger; I have one of the purest souls of our people." She watched him hiding under the covers of his bed, "You are pathetic! You cannot channel yourself because you have no self. You were consumed by her long ago. You swapped an easy death for an unquenchable thirst for pain that will stay with you forever!"

"NO!" He screeched, "NO! We do not do her will, we do our own; we have just traded our souls for everlasting life! Exodite wench, don't get in my head!"

"Then look at me Scum! Look upon what would have been the 'cowardly' way out. Look upon the happiness I have known by denying her!" Lenier pressed the shining stone against the glass. The Dark Eldar peeked from under the covers and stared wide eyed at the memories of joy she had. Lenier displayed them with pride and confidence, "This is the love you denied yourself." The Dark Eldar looked upon her face, past the light. She wasn't angry, no, she wasn't like that. She had a pretty face of pity. He felt the coil of Slaanesh pull in his guts and enrage him. He was not something to be pitied; he was something to be feared.

He stood in the light and walked toward her. Those dark eyes held violent hate for her waystone, Lenier held it on her chest, just to reassure herself. He leant against the glass and hung his head. It hurt; it hurt for him to look at her, to be near that stone. It burned the inside of his head, his malice and hate had been put into doubt and She Who Thirsts did not like it. She tugged at his mind, commanding him to remove the stone from her neck and smash it under his foot. 'Give me the power then... give me the power to break the glass... just to be rid of the stone and you... give it to me..." he whispered. He felt the burning pass and felt his hands fill with her rage and hunger. He raised his fist and smashed through the glass. The yellow waystone stopped glowing. It was in his grasp. Lenier froze. Her soul was in his hand and she knew he'd tear it away. But his other fist began to slam against the glass. The cracks slid along the glass like fast growing branches. After only five thuds it was a glorious tree of splintered glass that threatened to shatter at a single nudge, and the nudge was given.

Shining glass glittered and glided down from where it once stood. Lenier couldn't move; her soul was held in the fleshy casket of his hand, and she was afraid that should she move he would tear it from her neck and leave her helpless against She Who Thirsts. The man pulled her in close and she felt him smell her from her chest to her chin. He barely whispered, "You have only shown weakness by displaying your soul to me. Your memories are nothing but a beautiful tool I can use to torture you into insanity." He cupped her head in his hand, but remained clasping the waystone. He moved back to her neck, "I wonder how you taste Exodite?" he ran his tongue slowly up her neck. Lenier cringed at the feel of his slimy saliva on her neck, "I'll just have to hope you taste nice." He opened his mouth and she felt the sharp teeth of hate brush on her neck like a feather. The dug in gently, to prolong the pain and to make the victim feel completely helpless. Lenier could only cry silently as he consumed her blood.

Eventually he stopped and wiped his mouth, the blood trickled down his chin, "How does it feel to be helpless? Well I might just keep you like this so I can feast for as long as I like. But there's something else. Something I told myself to remember to do... What was it?" He still held the waystone but circled her while doing so. His pace was slow; he wanted her to see that he really was in control and could be at any time. He returned to face her, "Now I remember. I meant to do this." He tugged her into his embrace by the waystone and wrenched her head back by her long hair so she had to face him. All she could see were the hating eyes of him and she couldn't look away. "I promised myself that I'd rape you before the end. That I would make that pretty face twist in pain and shame, but before it ends, I'll make you scream my name in ecstasy. Poetic isn't it?" He smiled to himself, "you've been reduced to a helpless whore by one simple gesture and now stripped of your Path by someone you truly hate." He leaned in closer to her, so he could whisper in his ear. He failed to see the scrambling white coats demanding some sort way of separating them, but still had time for the last 2 things he meant to do. He whispered a single word into her ear and then pulled her face to his. Their lips touched and he held her there. Lenier couldn't pull away, she couldn't struggle and she couldn't fight back. Not without risking her soul. She could taste the tang of the iron in her blood that sat on both their lips and felt the pointed edge of his brutal teeth.

He didn't go any further though. Even though he'd promised rape he only held her, kissing her. Imperial Guard burst in and pulled him from Lenier. They threw him back in to his cell and the opaque wall slammed between them. The humans left her cell as soon as they could. Lenier looked at the opaque wall in front of her. He was there, behind the wall but still in her mind. Her link with the warp was strong and that was her disadvantage, he had a perfect place to sit and hide. That was how the Dark Eldar lived. The white coats watched her as she stood looking at the wall until she collapsed crying. She uttered only a few words, "Taunilor... His name... Taunilor..."


	3. Love?

Warhammer Fan fiction – The Poet of War Rated M for Mature - this is ridiculously mature so if you're younger than 16 please don't read on.

Part 3 – Love?

Taunilor had remained sat on the floor where the Imperial Guard had thrown him. They'd had the nerve to touch him. He'd have to kill them for that in the most brutal way he knew, but torture them before hand, as was his peoples' custom. He could still taste the Exodite on his lips and teeth. She'd tasted nice but there was something in her he thought he'd tasted before. She tasted of both battle and of serenity. Maybe she was both a poet and a soldier. 'No...' He thought, 'No... She tasted of battle but she doesn't do close combat particularly well... She does ranged combat well though... A sniper perhaps... No not even that; she can deceive her opponent... Deceive them to think there's more of her than there really are... But how...' Taunilor leaned back against the wall and thought. He'd been in enough battles against the cowards of his race, but still couldn't think of what she was on the battle field. 'Maybe if she had a cloak that could make her disappear...' Taunilor opened his eyes in realisation, "A Ranger! She's a Ranger!" He leapt up and knocked on the metallic opaque wall, "You're a Ranger aren't you! I could taste it. Have we met before?" He waited for a reply but got nothing. He sighed, she was no fun to torture and all he had about her were some happy memories and the taste of her blood. He'd have to meet her again sometime. She had the potential to be a lot of fun for him.

On the other side of the wall, Lenier knelt on the pristine white floor, her tears falling like rain that splattered silently. She didn't whimper but held her waystone tightly in her fist. White coats sat and watched her and scribbled something on their clipboards every time a tear fell from her face. The intercom crackled overhead, "Is there anything we can do to stop you from crying?"

"Give me a companion that isn't going to kill me, and give me a book and pen I can write in," Lenier whimpered. "We can do that. We'll have a scientist assigned to you immediately." Then the cell went entirely silent. She'd heard his thumps from the other side of the wall and heard a muffled cry of excitement, and thought it another attempt to break her. She stood and went back to her little bed and rested her head on her knees.

A pen and paper fell from the ceiling onto her bed and she lifted them with her mind, opening and then writing her thoughts down with the pen. It was the first poem of the book and it was a scared fragile one. I cannot describe its beauty and intensity of feeling for I would not do it justice. As she poured all her sadness and unease into the poem she felt her waystone warm up as she became happier. She didn't relieve her anger though. Lenier had a special release for that. No sooner had she thought of this release when he also dropped from the ceiling and dusted himself off. He was to be her white coat studier. He opened his mouth, "My name is-"

"I don't care about your name." Lenier hissed, taking his neck in hand "I care about the fact that you did nothing as he broke through the glass and assaulted me!" She pressed him against the wall and his legs flailed and kicked. She then dropped him, she didn't want to kill him but she did want answers, "Why didn't you do something?" gasping for air the scientist looked up at her,

"We wanted to see what would happen, as to whether he would rape you or not, and if he tried we'd have intervened. We also wanted to see what effect your soul display had on his psyche and how fast the change, if any, would happen."

Lenier knelt down so that she was at eye level with him. She said nothing but turned away. He was a hopeless human, the same as any other. "Go before I rip your psyche apart with my rage." The white coat simply stood and kept looking at her, "Do you want to die, human?"

"No, I want to study you and that's what I'm going to do."

"Come back later when I'm in a better mood, you'll get more from me when I'm happier."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Then it is your funeral." She turned to look at him. He was the same one as before when she had tried to escape. She pointed her finger at him. He put his hand to his head then both, screaming in agony. He felt his mind burning up. Then it stopped, she'd been subdued by the guards taser guns. "Put her on the bed, she won't wake until the 'night' on the ship, then she'll be sorry." The guards did as they were told and left her on the bed and left without another a word.

Night aboard the Victorious was artificial, when the ship entered the orbit of an ally planet and the crew got some sleep in cosy quarters. The corridors were darkened and only the odd red light in the corridor illuminated the dark ship. Lenier sat up in her dark cell with a headache. They'd electrocuted her and just left her. The intercom buzzed, "I was wondering when you were going to wake up. I thought they'd killed you for a second, but you're stronger than that."

"What do you want? It's night."

"I want to do some night time experiments on you and your new friend; however I'll be happy to leave and just watch the tape afterwards."

"What?" Lenier's head was confused and she couldn't think straight,

"Your new friend promised you something and I am still curious as to whether he'll carry out the threat, but I have a bed waiting for me, so I'll leave you two to it." There was another buzz and the opaque wall started to rise. Lenier walked up to the front window and slammed her fist against it, "You can't do this!" she cried, "You can't do this to me!" but he had already walked away and become another shadow in the corridors of the Victorious.

Taunilor looked at the rising wall and wondered what was happening. He waited for it to rise all the way up and then walked into the Exodite's cell. He saw her cowering against the clear front wall. She was terrified and he lapped up her fear like a cat to a saucer of milk. Her eyes glinted in the darkness, but his he knew were black because the light was behind him. It would all add to the terror of her experience. Her eyes darted to the furthest corner of the room and she ran for it, but he was quicker, he caught her arm and threw her against the clear wall. The air flew out of her lungs and she collapsed onto the floor. She was so depleted since they last met; it saddened Taunilor to think that she wouldn't put up a fight. He lifted her by her arms and stood her in front of him, "What's the matter Exodite? You were full of fire earlier today, why so weak now?" Her head lolled back and he caught it. He examined her neck bites and was pleased with the neatness of them. He hadn't intended to be messy with her.

"I never caught your name. I don't want to call you Exodite anymore, you know my name, so tell me yours, or I'll force it from you." Lenier didn't want to be weak so she raised her head and looked him straight in the eye, "You don't have my respect yet Scum."

"Then I'll force it from you." He held her arms but made his way to her hands ever so gently. He held them like delicate flowers then took a single finger and snapped it backward. Tears erupted from her face but no scream escaped her mouth and it unnerved Taunilor. He took another finger and snapped it back, expecting a scream but still none. He was getting impatient and took the last two, snapping them at the same time. She only stared back hating his existence with every bit of her own. He shook his head and grabbed her waystone but not tearing it from her. Lenier froze. Her mind was now clear of confusion and dizziness. "This was meant to be a last resort, and since you're so stubborn I'll do it now. Tell me your name or I'll tear this from your neck, crush it under my boot and laugh as you are taken over by She Who Thirsts." Lenier's tears renewed themselves and dribbled down her cheeks. But her pride was not so prominent as to allow for her to die by her hand, "Lenier... My name is Lenier." She whimpered

"Lenier, it suits you. It's beautiful but holds mystery to it. Strange name for a poet though." Lenier looked at him through fuzzed eyes, "what do you mean?"

"Well, I've had a lot of time to ponder over your taste and I felt the tang of battle. You're a Ranger. I could tell by the taste. I haven't tried many Rangers but you are a very unique taste. What battle did you take part in?"

"The third battle for Celestio, against your kind."

"What do you mean; 'my kind'? I'm the insane version of you. I was at the third battle against Celestio. I knew I recognised your taste before."

"How? I was bitten by another of you, it was a woman."

"She takes blood as well as drinks it, and since I was part of that battalion I got a taste of Ranger." He tugged her in close by the waystone, "And I liked it." Their eyes locked with one another, "You've got the same eyes as mine. You've got the eyes of a murderer." Lenier ripped her stone from his hand and stepped back, "I am in no way like you. I am a poet, an Exodite. I'm no murderer."

"You are to my people. Now come back to me and I won't tear the stone from your chest." Lenier looked at him. She had no idea as to whether she could trust him. She wanted to but the slightly illuminated scar pushed her away. He was a disgusting insane killer. Lenier took a step back and he hung his head, "I warned you, and now your beautiful soul will disappear to nothing." He sped toward her but she dodged. He disappeared behind her and she twirled to see he'd vanished into the shadows. She was not made for night excursions and couldn't make out his shadow among the blackness of the cell. She felt a slight breath against her neck and swivelled with her fist in the air to punch nothing. Something darted and grabbed her raised fist. He turned her back to face him and she greeted him with her other fist. It cracked against the side of his arm and broke two of her knuckles. Her other hand immobilised and the other aching from her broken fingers, Taunilor seized his chance.

He pinned her onto the bed with her arms raised above her head, keeping eye contact at all times. With one hand keeping her pinned, his other traced down her frame to her buttoned waist coat. The yellow buttons seemed to undo by their own will, with Lenier wincing as every button came away from its hole. Her waystone lied grey and defeated on her chest as he removed her top half of clothing. He pulled her clothing away and cast it onto the ground. The cell's air was crisp and sharp against her exposed skin making it ripple with goose-bumps. His hand then wandered lower to her belt. The knot was not hard to undo and with great ease it fell from the bed, just as her tears fell from her face. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to find her own mate and then after courting for a while he would propose a marriage and it would happen on their wedding night, but now, her chastity was going to be taken from her by a murderous creature of darkness. 'Don't you like that idea though? He's dangerous and could offer so much more than a peaceful life of an Exodite' whispered a little voice in her mind. She shook her head as she felt her trousers falling from her waist. Her clothes almost wanted to be removed and she could do nothing about it. Lenier looked up at him and saw that he was being as gently as someone like he could. Now, with only her underpants to protect her chastity Taunilor looked her up and down. She wasn't bad; she was toned and sinewy in every sense of the word. She had small round breasts that he knew would be a perfect fit for his nimble hands. Her legs seemed to go on forever, but her face ruined the beauty. It was streaked with tears and her sad expression seemed to kill his mood for rape. But it didn't faze him.

Taunilor kept his grip on her tight as he started to undress himself. His jacket slid off his broad shoulders, despite his awkward hold on Lenier. He spoke as he tried to take his shirt off, "You know you're in for quite a treat, I don't often give this big a show to my victims. It's usually just in, out and on to the next, but you know, I don't mind. I think you're worth the show, it is just you and me here after all and I figured the works would make this a better experience for you." His shirt flew across the room to unveil his toned torso. He took her hand with the broken knuckles and made her trace a finger against it, "Feel that?" He smiled, "Rock hard from too many battles." Taunilor plopped her hand back with the other and proceeded to undo his belt and trousers. Lenier looked at his chest. It was covered in scars of every shape and size. 'This is the dangerous life he's led, it's all over him. How can you not love it?' whispered the voice again. His trousers seemed to be the quickest item of his clothing to disappear and then they were left with only 2 pairs of underwear to keep the last of their dignity.

Taunilor did not wait for her to be ready; his capable hand slipped into her underwear and felt her almost perfect smooth buttocks. Lenier blushed heavily across her face but made no sound. To give him a sound would be to admit defeat, "My, my, what have we here?" he muttered as he felt around the front of her underwear. Lenier went rigid as he felt her most intimate parts, still staying silent. He felt her clitoris and pushed gently against it, causing her to give a little sigh. Lenier cursed in his mind. He'd won a small victory over her and she couldn't allow for it to happen again. Then she felt him pull his hand out, "I'm sorry Lenier but I'll have to put you through just a little more pain so this show can go on." His hand slid across the underside of her forearm and opened it. Her blood trickled out and he consumed it. As he lapped it up she felt something in his underwear harden. He pulled away from his feast, "There we go." He undid the buttons on the front of his boxers and slid her underwear down her legs.

She didn't see it. She didn't want to. She hated it but she could feel it against her. He gently pushed her legs apart, and entered without a moment's hesitation. Lenier's head tilted back as she gasped. He pushed against her over and over; she didn't have a rhythm yet but he'd make her go with his. Lenier bit her lip as he pushed against her, so hard that it started to bleed. He saw the blood on her mouth and slowed, "How did you know I liked that? Oh well, doesn't matter how you knew, you've done it now and I won't let that delicious blood go to waste" He pressed his lips against hers and let his tongue lick against her split lip. Lenier didn't know if it was the blood loss or the feeling of helplessness but she felt herself giving in. She had to admit it felt good. Her jaw loosened and she let him into her mouth. His passionate kiss robbed her of all the common sense she had, and she felt his hand that was pinning her slide down to hold her breasts. He began to speed up as he pulled away and she gave in. It was as he'd said. It was ecstasy. She moaned and pushed him away in rhythm to his thrusts against her. She felt everything and nothing all at once, she couldn't think of anything to say until she heard him sighing something, "Leni... Lenier... Oh Lenier... I think... I love you..." As much as she hated the idea that he'd been right all along she couldn't help it. It felt so good and he was the perpetrator of this wonderful feeling. It got better as they sped up, with every stroke it got better until she climaxed. Nothing mattered, not her stone, not the fact that this was supposed to be rape. There was only one thing that came to mind as the feeling of beautiful pleasure got to amazing heights. She screamed his name in ecstasy, "Taunilor! Oh Taunilor!"


	4. Time

Warhammer Fan fiction – The Poet of War Rated M for Mature

Part 4 – Time

They lay face to face, in the red glow of Imperial night, after the deed was done. He'd fallen asleep almost straight after and Lenier was left awake and feeling defiled. She told herself that there was only disgust in her for what had just happened, it was vile and the most horrid thing to happen. There was no way in the name of Isha that she could possibly have enjoyed that. But that voice, that voice that lingered like a toxin in her mind, kept telling the truth. She'd loved it. She'd done exactly as he said she would. She'd said his name and adored saying it. She couldn't stand to look at him anymore, and so, rolling over, she stalked out of bed and regained her dignity and clothes. She thought all the while she was dressing and writing as she did so with the pen and the book floating about her. 'To think... one such as he was so gentle, but ruthless at the same time. They are peculiar, the insane side of our species. Such a despicable creature could bring me happiness, the idea itself is as insane as he', she slid her waist coat along her arm and buttoned them down. The book and the pen dropped down into her hands and she looked over her notes, sitting on the bed lightly.

A hand dug into her side and tried to slide under her waistcoat. Lifting the pen and book with her mind she pushed the hand away with the heel of her palm, her fingers and knuckles still aching and swollen from the night's escapades. The hand was relinquished and in its place a pair of arms folded themselves around her waist, "you know I'm just going to take those off again, right?"

"You won't though" she whispered, "You've had your fun so you don't need to do it again. Besides, I know your species like a challenge, and I" she lifted her red, aching hands, "am no challenge for you now." Taunilor took her hands and looked over the damage,

"This, has incapacitated you? This is nothing to my people. A broken limb is nothing to my people."

"So would death be nothing to you?"

"We don't die; we evade it by causing it. We feast of the anguished souls of the dead." Lenier turned to look over at this nude psycho, wrinkling her nose in revolt, "Is that why you commit atrocities against all your prisoners?" His midnight blue eyes looked away; then darted back, she deserved an answer; "yes..." she turned away and hung her head. Lenier looked over her hands. They were huge and she had nothing to aid their healing. She usually healed fast but even that was tedious, her people had developed ways of speeding up the process to a minimum of a few minutes. The Imperial Guard knew nothing of these techniques, as they would have stolen them from her people given half a chance. Lenier returned from her tangent with a jolt. Taunilor had placed a hand on her back, under the waistcoat. It was warm and strangely comforting. She turned a little to look at him. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating on something. Lenier put the book and pen down on the bed and nudged his arm with the heel of her palm.

His midnight blue eyes snapped open to stare Lenier in the face, "What are you doing?" Taunilor started to relinquish his hand when Lenier held it gently, keeping it there, "What were you trying to do?" She asked almost silently. Taunilor sat up, bringing the grey blanket with him, but keeping his head down at all times. Lenier looked closely of what she could see of his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his eyebrows crossed. He was embarrassed. Lenier turned around to face him and took his chin in her crumpled hands, "What are you embarrassed about?" Her azure eyes seemed to penetrate his and read every thought, even though he knew she wasn't. Her pity wasn't what Taunilor wanted, he wanted her hate and her pain, but then if he punished her there'd be no sport. She wanted him to open up to her and it unnerved him. 'She should hate me. I hurt her... I stripped her of anything she could have been proud of and yet she can still forgive me?' He thought as he looked over her body, all the bruises, scratches, bites and her hands. He closed his eyes as he looked at her hands. He'd willingly broken a hand made of glass because he wanted to hear her scream, 'but that's what you are...' whispered Slaanesh in the back of his mind, 'you're mine and I won't let you go. Now hit her. She pities you and I want her pain. Hit her!'

"No..." he whispered, "Where is the point in breaking something that is so broken already. That's just sick." Slaanesh twisted in his guts, tearing at them with claws made of fire. 'Hit her you fool!' Slaanesh screeched, 'take her by the throat and kill her as slowly as you can! DO IT!' Taunilor lifted his face from Lenier's hands and slammed his fist into the wall behind him. He looked at Lenier, seeing her worry. She looked at Taunilor, seeing his pain.

Lenier moved closer to his statuesque form and wrapped her arms around him in an awkward hug. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist. Taunilor looked at her in disgusted love. She was holding him. Like a mother holds a child. Like a friend holds a lover. Like she actually cared... catching her throat in his wrist he hurled her across the room, smacking into the diamond glass. She crumpled into a heap, "there," he whispered, "that should do, now leave me be" the fiery claws retracted and fell asleep once more.

Whilst putting his clothes on he paced over to Lenier and nudged her with his toe, "get up. I know you're not dead, don't be so pitiful." Lenier groaned as she sat up and shifted her head into her hand. She took her hand away and found the glistening cardinal colour of blood seeping from her head, "What'd you do that for?" She sat back on the bed and looked over the notes in the book,

"Do I need a reason?" He replied, pacing in front of her

"Well yes. I wasn't the only one calling names earlier. So why did you throw me?"

"If I tell you, you won't like it."

"Just tell me." She said, frustrated and annoyed.

"She told me to, and wasn't going to let up until I did something..." He had his back to her. Lenier looked at the back of his head, still a little disgusted at his blood smeared hair, but amazed at what She Who Thirsts could do to her minions. He turned to her, "Happy now?"

"Well yes, I like to be told what is going on." She looked up into his eyes, "Without concern as to the subject matter." Taunilor walked away and leaned against the diamond glass with his eyes closed.

Lenier watched him. She scribbled in the book with her mind all the while as she took in every detail of his resting form. This carried on for about 10 minutes until his deep voice broke the ship night silence, "You know it's rude to stare. Didn't your mother ever tell you so?" Lenier looked away sharply, but intrigue pulled her gaze back to him, "Yes she did, but I am an adult and I make my own choices, so I don't have to listen to rules any more do I?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"No I don't..." Lenier paused as a thought flickered across her eyes

"What?" Taunilor stiffened "Why have you paused?"

"Nothing, it's nothing. I just had an intriguing thought, but it's nothing." Lenier let her head hang for a while, until she heard the shuffle and slump of Taunilor sitting on the bed, "Please tell me. You can tell me anything. I'm not going to share secrets with hapless homo-sapiens."

"I just wondered about your parents. Do you see them? Do you have them...? Do you miss them?" she looked at his scar, jagged and a tone lighter than the rest of his skin. Taunilor sat back on the bed and smiled.

"Now there's a story. My childhood... My mother and father... well my mother mostly. I never knew my father, but mother always called him a cruel, vicious man. I wanted to be just like him. Then when I was no higher than my knee... 8 I think, my mother left me at the door of the Kabal of the Slashed Eye. There I met my future captain. She didn't look a day over a 1000 years but she spoke like a 10,000 year old. She didn't believe in the use of drug enhancers, she believed it took away the real feeling of a kill. I could never remember her name though. Never... She had long ebony hair and bone white skin. The most slender legs and arms of our kind and the skimpiest war suit you've ever seen. I loved her. But she hated every one of us recruits. She'd have choked us each at our first mistake if it were allowed. Then my initiation into her troop came so quickly... I can't believe how amazing it was. We had ten rounds in The Crucible, fighting anything we'd caught on skirmishes and were still in fit enough condition to fight. I killed a lot of your people... And with every kill I felt stronger, and with every kill I could feel her clinging to me even more... Then in the last round against one of you farseers I made my mark for the Slashed Eye. The crowd went wild at the sight of my blood. That was the only time I felt scared in there, and then as I stood with my foot on the corpse of the farseer I knew where I belonged. Out on the battle field, taking any kind of blood I could get. Then, not long after the third battle for Celestio, the homo-sapiens caught me and have been trying to study me ever since. I've been here for about a year now and they still can't assign me a scientist because I am too vicious. I'm sure my father would be proud."

Lenier looked at him. Taunilor looked at her. Speech evaded her for almost an hour as every thought ran through her mind, every opinion she could have on what she had just heard. Suddenly the red light of ship night switched to the white light of day. White coats began to file neatly in a line to begin that days study. Both Eldar watched as the Imperial scientists went into frenzy. Clipboards flew and others were called. Then in the back ground something big moved. The scientists calmed as they watched a red space marine walk up to the glass. A voice crackled over head, "Dark Eldar, please get into your cell, or we will have to let it exterminate you." Taunilor didn't think twice and slinked back to his bed, and the space marine clunked back into the darkness. The opaque wall fell between them and they disappeared from one another's sight.

The voice burbled once more, "How are you today?"

"Considering I was raped last night I'm in relatively good condition."

"You were raped? How?"

"How do you think rape happens? And ask the scientist you tried to give me. He lifted the wall and allowed him in my cell to do as he pleased. Unless you're telling me you planned it for the same reason he did it."

"What reason did he give?"

"He wanted to see if that creature would rape me or not. As it turns out, he did." Lenier lifted her knees up to her chin and leaned against the wall. "Also, I have several broken fingers and 2 broken knuckles. If I could have those sorted that would be great. Don't worry; I won't hurt the scientist who comes in this time. I also have several wounds that are healing ok, but the one on my head is relatively recent and needs a little help."

"Do you think we're some kind of hotel service?"

"No, but if you want to study me, you'd better fix me, or I won't be at my peak and most interesting" It took about five minutes for a scientist to drop down from the ceiling. She was blonde, tall and green eyed. "I'm surprised you're allowed in the Imperial Guard, green eyes are a mutation."

"My mother fought for my right to live with every breath, now show me your hands." Lenier held her hands out to the scientist who bandaged her hands. "Can you be my new scientist?"

"What?"

"Can you be my new scientist, I'm not normally vicious; I was just having a bad day."

"Well since you requested I'm sure we can sort something out."

"Thank you." And with that the scientist left, going back up into the ceiling and leaving Lenier to her thoughts.

Taunilor sat on the other side of the opaque wall, thinking of all the lies he'd just spouted to a woman he had every possibility of loving. 'The first lie was the speed at which your initiation happened. You stayed at that academy until the legal age you had to be thrown into The Crucible. You were put in with prodigal children that would have killed you in an instant had it not been for the other distractions. You just got lucky that they were killed off by the huge Ork. The second lie was the killing of many Eldar. You killed one or two and even then you were working with your comrade brother. The third lie was that you felt stronger with every kill. You felt sickened with every kill until the end when you were numb to it. And then your fourth lie of doing the testament yourself and you fifth about being scared, you were scared the entire time you were in the academy, let alone The Crucible. Then the sixth is that you made it appear that you took down the farseer yourself, when really it was you and your brother. That fight was drawn out because of your weakness. Your brother had to cover for you until his end, and then the farseer pinned you down by your throat and it was all you could do to stop the blade she'd disarmed you of, from clawing that scar on your face. You watched your brother die by your blade in the hand of a tortured woman, and you did nothing. It was by sheer luck that you slit her throat. Your seventh lie was that you felt belonging when really you had no clue as to what or why that had just happened. About the only thing you didn't lie on was your capture. That was an easy capture wasn't it? You pathetic worm... then your last lie was that remote thought that your glorious blood drenched father would ever be proud of you. You make up lies for all you lack in the hope of shocking her. She isn't shocked; she pities you instead and is disgusted. It's a surprise she even listens to you, let alone believes you.' Taunilor sat with his head in his knees and cried. She'd never leave him. Nor would that beautiful creature that held him like a child. He'd once been told that time heals all wounds, when really all it does is infect the wound, making it pus filled and hateful.

"That's why... that's why I have to keep hurting the people around me... so they can be just like me... so they can share my pain..."


	5. Pain

Warhammer Fan fiction – The Poet of War Rated M for Mature

Credit mr I hate znt nobles kill em for some of the ideas in this chapter, go check out his stories

Part 5 – Pain

The scientist continued to scribble with her co workers on the outside of cell. She looked from Taunilor to Lenier with her so hated emerald eyes. The long haired female slumped onto her bed with her head in her hands. She looked apathetic, but on closer inspection she found that the Eldar was pushing back tears. She nudged the scientist next to her, "Hey Smith, look at the woman. She's... she's trying not to cry. Like a human?" Smith turned to her and looked at the Eldar and nodded, "You're right Lawson, but why?"

"She has been raped and kidnapped, cut her some slack. She probably feels she has to stay strong for her extinct people. Tears may be shameful to her."

"Is that sympathy for an _alien _I hear? That's tantamount to heresy."

"I'm not sympathising I just think that she deserves a break considering if she were human, she'd be given special treatment."

"But she's not. So I suggest you shut up Lawson, we are the only ones up here." Smith retorted as he nodded toward the looming shadows of the space marines placed either side of the containment cells. They were strategically placed so that only on the outside of the cell could one spot them. This was against what the Imperial Science Department wanted; feeling that they cells they'd designed were good enough protection, but the Imperium demanded it was in their best interests. The compromise was that the space marines would stand guard but not dictate how much time for observation they could have. Lawson didn't like them. In the proper Guard manner she didn't like mutants, but aliens? She had always felt there was so much to learn from other species, but sympathising and associating with creatures that aren't human are against protocol.

Lawson moved to her superior at the microphone, "Sir, permission to speak?" The thin man turned and nodded "Permission granted"

"The alien known as Lenier has asked that I be her assigned scientist. May this be affirmed sir?" Lawson's superior looked at her and at the alien. He shook his head, "We feel that it may be dangerous for any scientist to become personal, as information that could be gained through talking doesn't seem to be yielding much. We're moving onto the next stage that seems appropriate, as she seems to be resilient to a lot. Rape, assault, genocide; she's only really weeped once in all the time she's been here, and even now, observation shows she won't cry. Looking at her mentality it would suggest that she won't admit fear or vulnerability or she'd collapse and die of depression."

"May I ask what level of information acquisition will be practiced sir?"

"You may. We're moving on to Acquisition 5." Lawson's eyes widened.

"5 sir?"

"Yes, 5. She seems very resistant to co-operating with our demands. To spare the sadness that every scientist feels from separation with the subject matter we feel just not giving her one would be the best solution to this problem. Please make sure appropriate clothing is given to her and that the room is prepared."

The Imperium ship The Victorious has 5 methods of Information Acquisition, 1 being the weakest, 5 being the strongest. Acquisition 1 is to observe the species being studied in a natural environment in a quasi experiment so nothing changes; Acquisition 2 is to capture the subject, observe and ask questions behind diamond glass; Acquisition 3 is to be assigned a one to one scientist to be interviewed with; Acquisition 4 is to be prodded with electrical impulses to gain secrets and unspoken cultural details. Information Acquisition 5 is the slang equivalent of torture to the rest of the crew. The room for Acquisition 5 was deep in the bowels of the ship, dark and dreary. A single table with cast iron manacles for hands, feet and hooks for the neck, and a broken trolley with rusted tools of the trade.

Lawson ordered her subordinates to do ask her superior asked and within ten minutes the black clothing for Acquisition 5 was given. Lenier looked at the clothes, and then at the scientists, "I'm supposed to wear this?" She lifted up what appeared to be an all in one leather swimming costume with patches missing and additional hooks. The intercom buzzed and a cheerful "Yes" called over. "Turn around then! I don't like dressing and undressing in a public eye!" Lenier replied. At that the scientists turned around and waited.

When Lenier called that she was done Lawson turned around only to be disgusted at how perverted the Imperium could be. The Eldar filled out a leather black corset that hooked into a collar tightly coiled at her neck, pinning the soul stone tightly to her chest. The corset creased tightly around her groin and had slits at the hips showing her bare pale skin. Lenier's breast appeared to have been gathered by the hideous corset and pushed up to the point of almost spilling over the corset top. Hooks and chains adorned the outfit like tinsel and Christmas tree lights. The Head Scientist held out a blindfold to Lawson, "bring her out."

Lawson held the blindfold in horror. She did sympathise with the alien, but she saw it only as common decency to be nice to fellow living things. At her hesitation she felt the leash to the costume get thrown at her. She caught it and walked away to the Drop Zone. She landed lightly and shook her head, "Hello Lenier. I'm sorry about this but I'm going to have to put these on you" she said holding up the blind fold and leash "We're taking you to another part of the ship where you will be questioned." Lenier nodded, understanding that any resistance might cause the red space marines to return. She didn't want to die and let the homo-sapiens have their genocide.

Lenier was towed away in darkness and upon leaving the cell she had cuffs placed in the impossible case she could fight blind. In the lonely darkness she saw nothing of Taunilor banging on the diamond wall, getting angry at her departure to the point of needing the space marines to threaten death if he didn't calm down. She heard the banging on the window but thought it was another ship noise. Lawson left the group at the door of the Acquisition 5 Room.

Lenier felt the cool table press on her back and the cast iron manacles grip her wrists and ankles. The collar was hooked to the freezing table and Lenier felt it tilt so that she was to be observed slightly slanted. The man responsible for this style of Information Acquisition was referred to as the Torturer. He slid the gloves of black latex on his bony hands and flicked his hand over the tools on the rickety table. He lifted a scalpel, shining but blunt, into the light. Perfect for the first painful incision. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability" he said in a hiss. Lenier nodded.

"What is your name?"

"Lenier."

"Lenier what?"

"Lenier Windren."

"Do you have a middle name?"

"No."

A buzzing intercom similar to the cell's said "Enough small talk. Stick to the script." The rustle of paper confirmed his check of the script. He placed a hand on her breast. Lenier gasped, "Excuse me, what are you doing!" He continued to slide his hand under the corset and get a real feel. Lenier struggled against it, "If it's ok sweetie, I'll ask the questions." He gave her breast a gentle squeeze then dragged his nails across the tender flesh, leaving blistered red marks. Lenier gritted her teeth. "What type of soldier are you?" he gently hissed in her ear, almost seductively.

"I'm not inclined to share information with a homo-sapien." The Torturer lifted her hand with the broken fingers and dug the scalpel into her index finger. Lenier began to cry as a stream of red was dragged slowly down her finger. "What type of soldier are you Lenier?" The scalpel rested gently on her middle finger. Lenier snarled at him, "I will tell you nothing of my people you so happily slaughtered!" So the scalpel continued to leave both her sets of fingers bleeding and sliced to oblivion. As if her hands weren't broken enough. The Torturer unhooked the middle part of her costume, leaving her in a bikini of leather. He picked up a cat o' nine tails and asked a different question "How would you feel if we stripped you of any company, for example your Dark Eldar friend?"

"He's not my friend. He's my company. And what would you care how I feel?"

The whip cracked across the room and she flinched. "How would you feel if we killed him?"

"You wouldn't dare! You like to study us."

This time the whip cracked onto her belly, leaving tiny splits in her flesh, seeping crimson blood. The Torturer gripped her throat, "We're trying to study you. Not him. So his life hangs on your co-operation. How did your cloak disappear?"

"He would rather die than let you know our secrets. As would I!"

The whip cracked again three times on her stomach.

"Would you rather I rape you? You'd never see it coming. I'd strip you naked, keep tearing and whipping and cutting and then as the final blow it would just happen. You're not unattractive covered in blood, I could get him up easily for you."

Lenier felt a squishy warm thing press against her face and she rolled her head away in disgust and horror. The Torturer laughed. It was a cruel laugh, somewhere between a hyena and a snake. He threw away the warm sausage and whipped her stomach again for good measure. Lenier tried to coil and hide her belly only to feel the collar choke her and throw her against the table once more, her soul stone smacking her chest with cold.

Lenier returned to her cell bloodied and crying. Her face had tiny cuts and her hands dribbled red on the floor. She carried on sobbing as she was left in her room. Taunilor slammed on the glass again upon her return, but any comfort he could give her was concealed behind the wall. Lawson turned to her superior, "Sir, I think it may be a good chance to study the relation between the two, see if he comforts her or tears her further apart. Do you think this is a good idea sir?" The Head Scientist thought for a moment and nodded, pressing a small button on the panel in front. The opaque wall began to rise slowly. A quiet sigh of relief escaped Lawson at the sight that Lenier may have some comfort.

Lenier crouched on the floor letting the puddle of tears and blood spread with inertia. Taunilor stalked in and picked her up. Although muscular she was relatively light, and he gently sat her on the bed. He turned to the white coats, "May I have some warm salt water and a towel and flannel?" They fell from the ceiling into his hands. Taunilor sat by Lenier with the flannel and bowl and dabbed the sore wounds. With every dab she winced and sucked air between her teeth. The Dark Eldar was trying to be gentle; and this being a very foreign gesture to him, he was failing, but it appeared that practice was making perfect. Taunilor thought through his mind why he was doing this, 'I am doing this so she can heal and I can break her again, not because I am in love with her. She will think this is kindness and when I next rape her she'll be stunned and hurt, rather than pity me. At least that is the theory, but looking at what she's endured already she may be harder to break a second time. Genocide seemed to shake a quite a bit, although she was more angry than sad, and then the thought of no soul made her cry, but the rape? That didn't seem to affect her much... Was it rape though? She seemed to enjoy, as I did, but she was reluctant to start with. Now only with torture is she weeping. I don't think I want to try to understand her or her race. It would waste time when I could be tormenting her...'

"But do I want to torment her?" Taunilor voiced aloud. Lenier looked at him intently. She was still upset but the idea of more torment only seemed to anger her, "If you're going to torment me do it now rather than later, I'd rather have it in one big dose that little bits." The warm salty flannel stayed on her face as he looked at her, "I never said I would. Why do you assume I would do that?"

"That's what your people do." She spat. She snatched the flannel from him, "thank you for your concern but I can take care of myself. I just needed a minute to compose myself." Taunilor could take a hint and went back to his bed. Lenier continued to wash her cuts that now had purple bruises appearing around them. Her body ached, and she stripped off the leather, no longer caring who saw her bare flesh and tried to sleep under the grey blanket.

Imperial night seemed to last forever as Lenier tossed and turned over and over, chasing a restful sleep that evaded her at every turn. She did however drift away for a few seconds, in to a hateful nightmare about blunt scalpels that tore at her limbs and left her a motionless head in the dark. She sat up screaming. The white coats had left the opaque wall up, to see if night encouraged any difference in their behaviour. Taunilor looked over at her, "Can't sleep?" Lenier nodded, terrified but grateful for his company. A pang of guilt shot through her about her previous behaviour toward him. Then without needing any prompt Taunilor got out of bed and climbed in with her, 'I'll give her what she wants and then strip her of it, that's sure to do at least some psychological damage' he thought without giving away anything in his expression. He held her close to his scarred body, warm and inviting, and rocked her back and forth. She felt no shame of being naked around him this time. He'd seen it all before. They sat like that for the rest of the night, until Lawson appeared at the diamond window.

She was speaking to the invisible space marines, "You're shift is over, your replacements will be here soon."

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm studying their night time behaviour. So please alleviate any suspicions you mutants might have" she replied with spite. The marines trudged away and upon double checking they were well away from the corridor she pulled out a laser gun and began pushing buttons. "Put your clothes on Lenier! Hurry!" She threw on her clothes and stepped quietly from the cell. Lawson beckoned Taunilor and he hesitantly followed. They began to run down the corridor under the guidance of the green eyed scientist when an alarm began to whir and buzz, she cursed "They know you've escaped, I have to get you to the webway as quickly as possible, don't fall behind!"

Lawson picked up the pace and with Taunilor holding onto a tired bloody Lenier they soon found themselves in front of the swirling gate of the webway. Taunilor towed Lenier to the gate and was about to walk her through when the sound of space marine boots could be heard stamping down the corridor. Lenier grabbed Lawson's hand, "They'll know you helped us, you have to come with us!"

"She can't! Her mind can't handle being in the warp!" Taunilor said, tightening his grip on her hand. Lenier ripped her hand away and held Lawson by the shoulders, "You can't die, I don't even know your name! Don't fight them; they may just question you as to where we went." Lawson shook her head and sighed, it was like talking to a child, "The Imperial doesn't give second chances. If they do question me it will be the same way they 'questioned' you. I had to get you out; they were going to do so much worse to you... and my name is Nova Lawson, now go." She turned to see the space marines behind her, preparing to fire, "Go!" Taunilor lifted Lenier by the waist and ran into the webway.

The space marines opened fire on the heretic as the swirl of the webway engulfed Lenier's sight. Lawson fell back her green eyes wide but rolling back into her head, blood staining that white coat. Lenier seemed to go deaf as she screamed out "Nova!" but heard nothing. Still reaching for the lost human, Lenier let Taunilor carry her further and further away from her. It was as if she'd been shot herself. It hurt so much Lenier fainted.


End file.
